


No Excuse for Lethargy

by snarkyscorp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Incest, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-01
Updated: 2009-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkyscorp/pseuds/snarkyscorp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry would hardly call a quick bite and a rough fuck on Ron's couch a 'date'. In fact, they had yet to have anything but rough fucks since this little tryst began nearly one month ago. Not that Harry was complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Excuse for Lethargy

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Breaking the Rules](http://archiveofourown.org/works/411953), though you don't necessarily have to read that one first to understand this one.

"Evening, Uncle Harry."

Harry looked up from the pile of reports he was currently finishing. The hour was late, the sun had long since set, and nearly everyone had left the Ministry for the night, gone back home to their families, friends, and lovers. There was absolutely no reason for Hugo Weasley to be standing at the threshold of his office, looking positively ravishing in nothing but a simple t-shirt, low-riding denims, and worn trainers. There was also no reason for Harry's nostrils to flare as they did, for his dick to respond to just the flash of a toothy grin at Hugo's mouth when long lips stretched candidly and perfect white teeth flashed wolfishly in the dim light.

As always where Hugo was concerned, Harry felt unbalanced; it was like Hugo turned the entire world upside-down when he entered a room.

"What are you doing here, Hugo?" Harry asked, hoping he didn't sound quite as horny as he felt. It was somewhat pathetic, how easily Hugo unwound his libido. It was rare that Harry didn't feel like a sex-starved teenager in his presence.

Hugo sighed, sharp blue eyes rolling behind stylish, square-rimmed glasses. He sighed like Harry's question was so brainless that he hadn't the right to have asked it. He sighed like coming into Harry's office unannounced in the middle of the evening wasn't odd, like he did this sort of thing all the time and Harry just couldn't keep up. With a cock of his narrow hips, Hugo leaned against the door frame and folded his arms. He then fixed Harry with the kind of look Ginny used to give him when he didn't come home in time for dinner. Harry just stared, his face blank and his lips drying just from taking in every inch of Hugo's lean body that was on display.

"Not that I'm not, um, happy to see you," Harry offered, glancing at the clock as if it had the answer to why his nephew was there to see him.

"You are such a forgetful old man, Uncle," Hugo said. With a sway of his hips, he pushed off the wall and sauntered towards Harry. Stopping just shy of Harry's desk, Hugo looked down at Harry and quirked a fine, red brow. "I suppose you don't remember that you promised to meet me for dinner while my parents and Rose are away for the night."

Harry paled a little bit and in the same breath felt heat spreading through his face. He had never been great with remembering dates with anybody else; why would it be any different with Hugo? Not that it was a date. Harry would hardly call a quick bite and a rough fuck on Ron's couch a 'date'. In fact, they had yet to have anything but rough fucks since this little tryst began nearly one month ago. Not that Harry was complaining.

As the cogs fit into place, Harry groaned. "Dinner. Your house. Right. Shit."

"Such a filthy mouth," Hugo tsked, bending over the desk. With a slender curl of his fingers, he wrapped Harry's tie in his tight fist and yanked, tugging Harry towards him and half out of his chair. "Shall we go clean it?"

"Hugo." Harry tried to give Hugo that warning tone he always used for James when he said something out of line or inappropriate, but it came out hungrier somehow, like he was a starved man out to ravish the nearest morsel of food. Or in Harry's case, the nearest sixteen-year-old nephew.

"I love it when you get all authoritative on me, Harry," Hugo purred. With one swipe of his tongue, he licked his lips in slow deliberation, cool blue gaze focused on Harry's mouth. "Tell me I shouldn't be here. Tell me we shouldn't be fucking." Hugo's fist balled a little tighter and he curled his wrist, wrapping Harry's tie more and more, until he had Harry crawling over his own desk to get closer. Hugo held him there, eyes glittering, and groaned. "Tell me all the ways you could get in trouble and all the ways I should know better."

"You _should_ know better," Harry positively growled. " _I_ should know better. I'm nearly thrice your age. Recently divorced. Boring. Workaholic. And you are—"

"Young enough to be your son?"

"Stop it, Hugo," Harry grunted.

"Dashing and charismatic and bloody sexy as all hell?"

"Hugo."

"Merlin, you know what you do to me; I could come if you just said my name one—more—time."

Their mouths brushed and above the ragged sound of their hitched breathing, Harry whispered Hugo's name and watched his nephew shudder and writhe against the front of the desk. Without warning, Harry launched himself straight over the desktop and shoved Hugo up against the nearest wall. Hugo fell back, knocked his head into the wall, and arched into Harry with a hiss of pain or pleasure or _who the fuck cared_ as their mouths fit together in a clash of desperation. Harry's hands clawed for purchase in Hugo's hair but for what wasn't the first and what wouldn't be the last time, Harry found his fingers met with sticky hairspray, gel, and all the products that kept Hugo's hair up in its tight, unbearably sexy fauxhawk. So Harry grabbed his throat instead, with both hands, and then dragged his fingers down Hugo's tall, bony form, pawing at Hugo like a sick dog, like he couldn't live without him, like they had no time for pretense and no excuse for lethargy.

Hugo shoved Harry then, gripped handfuls of his hair, and bit down his neck, over his ear, down to the pulse of his Adam's apple. And before Harry knew it, they were fighting their way down the hallway, kissing and clawing and mouthing and sucking, and they were sodding lucky if they didn't leave a trail of their clothes behind in their clumsy wake. Hugo was bruising his skin or he was bruising Hugo's or they were bruising each other's, but all that mattered was that they get to some kind of secluded destination where no one could barge in and where Harry could rut against Hugo and impale him and wipe every last inch of that smug look off his face.

Somehow, the two of them wound up in one of the loos that were reserved for the Auror Department. It, like most of the Ministry at this late hour, was deathly quiet. It was almost more of a turn on for Harry to hear their ragged breathing echoed in the small room than to hear it against his ear in the silence of a warm bedroom. He tried to remind himself that his flat was but an Apparation away, that taking Hugo slowly over and over again throughout the night would be so much better than a rough, frenzied fuck in the nearest loo, but Hugo was already dragging him close and reaching for his dick.

Instead, Hugo's fingers closed around the wand in the back of Harry's pant pocket and jerked it free. Reflexes still swift as ever, Harry stopped him with a firm grip around his wrist.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

"Locking spell," Hugo panted. "You do it. I'm too young, as you're always pointing out. Underage magic and all."

Harry's chest heaved as Hugo pressed his wand into Harry's fist. Harry cast the spell wordlessly, and to his great pleasure, he saw Hugo shudder at the sound of the locks clicking into place.

"Fucking _nonverbal magic_?" Hugo's eyes were half-lidded as he pressed his tall, lithe body against Harry's broader, huskier form. "You have got to be the hottest wizard in the entire bloody world, Harry."

Harry could feel his cheeks burning, the warmth spreading down his throat and over his chest. It was almost embarrassing, being fawned over for knowing a very simple nonverbal spell, but at the same time he was floored with the fact that a boy as beautiful as Hugo Weasley thought so highly of him. He'd been named _Witch Weekly's_ 'hottest bachelor' after the divorce, but that was just bollocks and games—Hugo saying it made it seem legitimate. Harry couldn't stop the laugh that spilled from his lips and tangled in the groan he emitted.

"Do it again," Hugo demanded, both hands working to get Harry's shirt out of his trousers and up and over his head. He tossed it aside once this had been accomplished and mouthed at Harry's collar bone.

Grinning like a complete idiot, hot in the face and feeling ridiculous, Harry clenched his wand a little tighter and thought, _Nox_. Several lights above flickered and dimmed, leaving only the barest illumination from a few choice candles. And as if to prove he could really do some damage—he was Harry fucking Potter, Goddamn it—he thought of another spell and felt his body quake at the thought of it. Once it had been cast, Hugo's body quaked too, visibly.

"F-Fuck!" Hugo cried, arching into Harry and clinging tightly to his chest. "W-What did you…what did you do to me?"

"Lubrication spell," Harry murmured, wasting no time in undoing Hugo's trousers and sinking to his knees. He took a great deal of satisfaction watching Hugo lean limply against a sink. And when Hugo stepped out of one pant-leg and spread himself, Harry could see excess lubrication dribbling out of his ass.

Hugo's face was redder than his hair when their eyes met. "Sicko," he whispered, brushing his lips against Harry's. "Bet you like watching it drizzle out of my ass, don't you, you pervert?"

Harry knew Hugo well enough by now to know he was teasing, but a flicker of guilt passed through him. "I do like it," he said honestly, stroking down Hugo's left side and under his knee to lift it. "Because I can do this—" To punctuate, his free hand slid under Hugo's exposed ass and two thick, battle-roughened fingers prodded right into him. "—So much more easily."

The sound that Hugo made tore out of him like an entire storm had been unleashed from the back of his throat. And when Hugo's ass clenched around Harry's fingers, Harry once again thanked Merlin that Hugo persisted and pressed his buttons until he exploded—this was well worth the last remnants of guilt toiling at the back of his mind which reminded him that Hugo was his nephew, that Ron would kill him for this, that he was taking advantage of Hugo, and that he was just fooling himself thinking this could be something more than a passing infatuation.

Leaning in, Harry took his time preparing Hugo, even though he knew from experience that Hugo didn't need it and often didn't enjoy it as much as he did when taking it quick and rough against whatever piece of furniture or bare expanse of wall was immediately available. Still, Hugo wasn't complaining as Harry's mouth worked hotly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, the low curve of his firm collar bone. For once, Harry didn't bite or bruise or draw blood—instead, he sucked tenderly, lavished Hugo's skin with the flat of his tongue, and eventually sank down to his knees only when he was sure Hugo was so wrapped up in the pleasure that he wouldn't be expecting it.

With practiced ease, Harry continued to slide two fingers into Hugo's ass while his free hand gripped the base of Hugo's dick and held it firmly in his fist. Bending down, Harry sucked open-mouthed kisses from just above his grip to the very head of Hugo's swollen dick.

"Oh Merlin, Harry, don't—you know what it does to me to have you—"

But Harry cut him off with a grunt and swallowed the head of his cock slowly. Hugo threw his head back and reached out with both hands to steady Harry's head. Harry again took his time, sucking and mouthing and licking and lavishing. Before Hugo, Harry had never been interested in sucking other blokes off, but the noises Hugo made as he worked down and sucked in one of Hugo's balls just made the whole experience that much more pleasurable for both of them.

Finally, _finally_ , when Hugo was bucking and keening and thrashing hard against the sink, Harry pulled off and slid his fingers out with a satisfying 'pop'. The goo of the lubrication clung to his fingers, sticky between them, and once again dribbled down Hugo's inner thighs thickly.

Harry kissed his way up Hugo's taut stomach, inhaling the scent of inexpensive cologne, then up his chest, where he paused to tease a pert nipple, and even higher, along the fine column of Hugo's long throat, nipping at the sharp jut of his handsome chin, and finally capturing his mouth in a leisurely, passionate kiss. The sight of Hugo like this—crumpled over the sink, dick dabbing precome over the flat of his stomach, cheeks and chin and throat blotched with red, and glasses slipped down to the tip of his strong nose—set Harry off like nothing else could anymore. Hugo was perfect. _His_. Harry wanted him with every fiber of his being and craved him as a man quenched of thirst craved water; inexplicably, because it is all he needs.

"Harry," Hugo panted, gripping Harry's hair with tight fists to tug their mouths apart. Like magnets, their lips seemed to gravitate back towards one another, but Hugo insisted with a firm tug. "Harry, if you don't stick your dick inside my ass, I'm going to stick mine in yours."

Harry laughed with a throaty mix between a moan and a scoff. "I'd love to see you try."

"You've got thirty seconds until I do."

"No, really," Harry clarified. "I'd _love_ that. Will you, please?"

Hugo hid his laugh behind a dry clear of his throat. "Twenty-eight, twenty-seven—"

"Turn around."

"Twenty-six, twenty-five," Hugo continued, droning on even as he turned and braced his hands firmly on the sink.

Harry let Hugo get as far as the count of fifteen before he dropped his pants. The sound of it echoed sharply in the empty bathroom, and Harry distinctly heard Hugo stutter on fourteen and thirteen. It was only when there was less than five seconds to go that Harry steadied his rock-hard dick and pressed it against the tight pucker at Hugo's entrance. This time, Harry was sure Hugo faltered in his counting, and he barely made it down to three seconds before Harry was fully seated inside him and Hugo was bent all the way down into the bowl of the sink with his cheek pressed to the cold porcelain.

"M-Move it already," Hugo demanded, but Harry could hear the sanity unwinding from his every word.

Harry took his time pulling out, dragging his dick along the vice-tight skin inside Hugo's body and then urged his hips forward with a buck. He grunted like some animal and worked his dick in and out of Hugo's ass like his life depended on it. Every word Hugo got out was muffled into the sink, sobbed into the porcelain bowl with a sincerity that again made Harry wish they were in the warm bedroom at his flat, wrapped under blankets instead of shoved against cold ceramics. He wanted to both cradle Hugo against his body and fuck him hard and fast until he exploded. He wanted things he'd never wanted before, to comfort and to take unyieldingly, to hold and to let go, to give and to give out.

It didn't take long for either of them. Ginny had never shied away from telling Harry just how quick he was during sex, but Hugo never seemed to mind. In fact, Hugo seemed to like how fast Harry got worked up, how quickly he was unwound, and how swift it was in, out, and over.

With a final grunt, Harry came inside Hugo's body and rode out his orgasm to the end, bucking furiously and driving bruises into Hugo's sensitive skin. When he was done, he slumped against Hugo's thin body and wrapped both arms around him, holding him close and kissing along the arch of his spine.

"Nnn," Hugo groaned quietly.

"I'm not crushing you, am I?"

"I'm not…not done yet," Hugo admitted, pushing back against Harry's cock to drive it in further. "Oh god, please, I just need a few more good thrusts, please, Harry, I can't stand it…"

Harry grunted. He could already feel his dick softening in Hugo's body but he knew something that would work. Pulling out, he knelt to retrieve his wand and tapped his dick. Instantly hard, Harry could feel the magic pulsing through him, enveloping his every vein and muscle. He felt empowered and overwhelmed with heat. Without waiting for the short-timed spell to wear off, he moved back to Hugo and slipped himself in.

"Goddamn," Hugo groaned, pushing back. "Take me, just sodding take me like you want me, just like you want me."

Something unraveled inside Harry and he held Hugo's slender hips still and bucked furiously against his ass, driving his dick into Hugo's body over and over and over again. Hugo screamed, arched his body in a way that didn't seem humanly possible, and reached down to grip his dick. Two strokes later, Hugo came with a howl that tore from his throat, and Harry groaned at the tightness that squeezed and contracted around his dick. It didn't seem possible to come again, but Harry didn't care. Hugo was still mumbling hot little words of encouragement, dirty mouthings against the porcelain sink, and it drove Harry forward as easily as a whip to his spine.

Harry rode Hugo until it was impossible to go any more and with a scream, he pulled out and let Hugo slump to his knees. Hugo turned as if on cue, and Harry milked his dick until he was spurting for the second time that evening, his white-hot come splashing Hugo's beautiful, lightly-freckled face.

It took a long moment to come down, and even then, Harry had to grip the sink to keep himself standing. Hugo reached around for Harry's wand and handed it to him, and Harry cleaned Hugo's face with a quick charm and got rid of the erection spell he'd used on himself. He looked down at Hugo and smiled tiredly, combing through some of the gel-tight hairs that had become displaced as Hugo had sweated. He cupped Hugo's cheek, stroked his plump red lips with the pad of his thumb, and felt something tear inside him.

"I didn't know you were so dirty, Uncle," Hugo said, breaking the sweet spell between them that had absolutely nothing to do with wizarding magic and everything to do with the natural kind Harry hadn't felt in years.

"You make me crazy," Harry admitted.

"Couldn't tell." Hugo grinned broadly and reached up to pull Harry's hand from his face. Casually, Hugo twined their fingers. "My ass is sore. Will you kiss it and make it better?"

There was an undefined lump in Harry's throat as he laughed. "Give me an hour or two, and I'll consider it. Why don't you come back to my place for a while?"

Both of Hugo's brows quirked high, and he adjusted his glasses as if in thought. The clink of the metal rearranged on the bridge of Hugo's nose was the only sound until Hugo broke the hush that had fallen between them. "For a while?"

"For the night," Harry clarified.

With a nod, Hugo rose shakily to his feet. Harry held him close, gathering his supple body in his arms. They stared at one another for so long in silence that Harry thought maybe he hadn't offered anything aloud at all.

"If you want to," Harry added. "No pressure."

"That sounds all right," Hugo murmured, laying his face against Harry's broad chest. "Really good, in fact."

Harry had a suspicious thought that nothing would ever be the same between them again. And he was glad of it.


End file.
